Merry Mischief-maker's Mistletoe
by Rumer Hasit
Summary: Christmas was a scary time. Filled with the dreaded mistletoe and rampant hormones in a school filled with teenagers. Harry really shouldn't have expected everything to go smoothly, not since fate seemed to have a personal grudge against him, but even he didn't expect this to happen. And it was all the twin's fault. He was so going to kill them.


**!*!*! ATTENTION ... MAAYO ... UPPMÄRKSAMHET !*!*!**

**Disclaimer: **Harry Potter does not belong to me in any shape, way, or form, sadly. If it did, they would have just cast a tracing charm on Voldemort or one of his Deatheaters, and then dropped a bomb on the place. Yep. You can see how much I've thought about this. Effective, right? Now, please enjoy this story and make sure to read the short note at the end. Thanks!

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Harry slowly peeked around another corner in the deserted corridor, eyes peeled for any female, or male for that matter, who wanted a Christmas kiss from their savior, or the enchanted mistletoe that he had learned to fear.

He shuddered. It was getting just plain ridiculous. He had to dodge people in the hallways, use shortcuts and secret passage ways that were actually taking him longer than the normal way would have because he had to use so many of them to actually get where he wanted to go, and, under several circumstances, he'd had to…erm… sacrifice some of the other boys by pushing them under the mistletoe. Some had been appreciative. Others hadn't. Still, it was for the greater good. Keeping his lips unmolested.

Cautiously, he stepped out into the hallway. Classes were over for the day. He just needed to get back to Gryffindor tower, and he was safe. He felt a grin growing on his face as he confidently stepped forward, striding down the hallway and turned the corner, only to run smack into someone.

Bodies collided and limbs intertwined awkwardly before they lost their balance, and Harry fell backwards, back connecting the stone floor painfully.

He winced, body protesting at the pain and the added weight of the other person. Right. The other person. He opened his eyes, and then grimaced. Even with his glasses skewed, he recognized the sleek, platinum blonde hair and pointed features, not that he'd ever had an occasion to see them from this close before. Or ever wanted to again.

"Malfoy, get off of me!"

A bony elbow was jabbed in his ribs. "Don't you think I'm trying to, Potter? Blame your ridiculously long legs! They've gotten tangled in my robes," came the sneering reply.

Harry rolled his emerald eyes, and tried to get loose, which only added to the general confusion. Several minutes longer, they were panting, annoyed, but finally separated.

"Don't you look where you walk, Potter?" Malfoy snapped, smoothing back his ruffled hair and straightening his robes.

"Oh, shove it, Malfoy," he replied wearily. Really, all he wanted to do was get back to the common room. "Well," he murmured, glancing up, "at least it wasn't one of the ones booby-trapped with mistle…" His voice trailed off in horror and disbelief as cheerful red berries and spiky, dark green leaves materialized out of thin air.

He'd never seen a more sinister sight.

"No… But, but… That wasn't there!"

"Get up to date. It's the Weasleys' latest Merry Mischief-maker's Mistletoe. It's invisible until activated. It was in their latest catalog," Malfoy said, although he sounded rather dead inside at the realization.

Harry didn't even bother to ask how the blonde knew, as the horrible realization of what it actually meant began to infiltrate his senses.

He was trapped.

He was trapped under enchanted mistletoe.

He was trapped under enchanted mistletoe with Draco Malfoy.

He'd have to kiss said boy to get out from under the mistletoe.

He'd rather face Voldemort again.

He let out a sound that was only slightly too masculine to be a whimper. He was doomed. He tried to walk out from under the mistletoe, only to get nowhere. He was going through the movements of walking, but he wasn't actually going anywhere.

No problem, he'd been in tougher situations before. Maybe a spell… Two minutes and thirty-five spells later, nothing had changed, except for the mental state of the boy-who-lived, which had changed for the worse.

Malfoy let out a curse as another one of his spells fizzled into nothingness. "Damn those Weasley's! This is an impressive piece of spell work…" He sounded torn between admiration and wanting to hex off their very important bits.

So far, the two boys had, for the most part, ignored each other. Harry intended to keep it that way. Even though he'd spoken at the Malfoy's trials and had gotten Draco and his mother declared innocent, with Lucius unavoidably serving time in Azkaban, although with a considerably lighter sentence, they definitely weren't friends.

Harry slumped down to the floor. Fine. If he couldn't cast a spell to get out, he'd just wait it out. There had to be a time limit on the charm.

Five hours and a very sore bum later, it was getting close to curfew, and they were sitting, stuck in a corridor that Filch patrolled. That, plus the fact that the Christmas season made Filch even more unpleasant than usual, was not improving anyone's mood.

With creaking joints, Harry stood up and glared at the now glowing mistletoe, which was sparkling at him cheerfully. "I am going to kill Fred and George," he said flatly.

Malfoy stood up, dusting off the seat of his pants, and said, "Fine. But that doesn't do us much good right now, does it?"

"Snarky git…"

That earned him a glare.

He shrugged. Not that it really mattered. What he was about to do next would earn him much more than a glare. Mouth suddenly dry, he swallowed and took a step closer to Malfoy.

Malfoy froze at the movement, silver eyes narrowing. "What are you doing?"

"Getting out of here," Harry answered determinedly.

Eyes widened with the comprehension of what that actually meant. He backed away until his back his the invisible barrier keeping him there. "What?" he yelped, voice going up several octaves. "You most certainly are not! Stay away from me, Potter! I'm warning you!"

"Yeah? Well, sorry, but I'm more afraid of Filch catching us than you at the moment."

And, with that, Harry leaped. The succeeding struggle involved several missed curses, limbs flying everywhere, multiple bruises, and a very panicked Draco Malfoy finally being pinned under a flustered Harry Potter.

"Just hold still, will you? I don't want to do this, either. Let's just do it as quickly as possible and then forget that it ever happened!" Harry said in such a tone of repulsion that Malfoy froze and then frowned at him and said, "No need to make it sound like that. I'll have you know that several people would be glad for a kiss for me."

The brunet raised his eyes to the ceiling as if in silent prayer. "Give me patience for Malfoys…" And then he looked back down and said, "Shut up, Malfoy," before quickly leaning down and kissing, and effectively silencing, the blonde.

The kiss was short, not sweet in any meaning of the word, and lasted only a moment, the merest brush of lips.

Harry scrambled up off of Malfoy and wiped his lips on the back of his hand furiously. He glanced at the other boy out of the corner of his eye.

He was just laying there, apparently too stupefied to react. Amazing, he'd finally shut up.

Despite the situation, him feeling nauseous, it being close to curfew, he almost smiled. Sure, he'd have nightmares for weeks and have to wash his mouth with soap, but he was free! The squishy chairs and welcoming fire in the common room were beckoning to him.

He stepped out from under the mistletoe… only to find he couldn't. He blinked in surprise. "What the…" it dawned on him, and suddenly he felt like crying.

He looked up at the mistletoe, watching as a little scroll materialized, along with the cheerful chiming of bells with made Harry want to shoot something, that said, "Kiss must last at least ten seconds!"

There was silence, and then: "I am going to murder them in their sleep," Harry hissed darkly, one eye twitching and voice almost coming out as parseltongue.

"I will help you kill them," another voice said darkly from beside him. Malfoy looked like he was already planning their murders.

Then, abruptly, Malfoy said, "Fine. Let's get this over with, and then this weekend we can kill them. Not in their sleep, though, that's too merciful. We have to torture them first."

Wild-eyed, Harry turned to him, not entirely sure if he'd heard right. "What?"

"I didn't know that scar effected your hearing as well. I said, let's get this over with. I'd rather not spend more time with you than I have to," Malfoy scowled.

"So you'd rather kiss me?" Harry said disbelievingly.

"Shut up! Can you just… don't say it. I'm trying to pretend this isn't happening, and I want to go to bed. Now, we're going to… for ten seconds. You can be a willing participant of this or not, but it's going to happen." His voice broke, betraying his panic, and he quickly cleared his throat, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Fine. But afterwards… This never happened, understand?" Harry said finally, "Right?"

"Right."

There was an awkward moment when the two just stood there staring at each other, and then their faces slowly gravitated towards each others. Their lips met for a second time, nothing more than the gentle press of flesh against flesh, that is, until Malfoy's lips moved slightly and Harry mirrored the movement instinctively. Suddenly, it was much more like a kiss.

They broke apart, more than slightly freaked out.

Harry nervously tugged at his color, feeling cheeks heat up and knowing that he was blushing. Which was a perfectly natural reaction to kissing… Although maybe not so much if said person you were kissing was your ex-rival who hated you and who you hated. Bloody misplaced hormones.

"Fuck…" The soft exclamation jerked him out of his thoughts, and he followed the Malfoy's, who somehow looked far more composed than he felt, gaze to the mistletoe.

There was a new scroll hanging off of the last one, and this one read, "With tongue!" He could practically hear the twins cackling.

All of the blood drained from Harry's face at the two words.

Far away, two twins were jolted from their sleep. A feeling of forbidding washed over them.

Fred turned to his twin. "George… Do you get the feeling…

"That someone's cursing our name and we need to disappear for a few weeks or face getting maimed beyond our wildest imagination?"

"Exactly," Fred concurred, "And our imaginations are good."

"I wonder what we did…" they murmured thoughtfully in unison before grinning. "I bet it was epic."

Back in Hogwarts, Harry was torn between having a nervous breakdown, flying into a rage, recalculating his plot to torture the twins to make it twice as sadistic and three times more painful and creative, crying, and going brain-dead at the realization of what they had to do. He was going to need to visit St. Mungo's for all of the psychological damage that was occurring.

Breaking out of those extremely disturbing thoughts, he eyed the other boy he was trapped with. Malfoy was glaring at the mistletoe with such an intensity that he was surprised that it hadn't burst into flames yet.

Malfoy. Of all of the people who he could get stuck under the mistletoe with, it had to be him. Why? What had he done to deserve this? He'd even rather it be Parkinson! She'd actually grown into a rather attractive person. Even Seamus wouldn't have been too bad. The Irish boy had probably snogged half of the people in their year.

Which brought him back to the question: Why Malfoy? There were hundreds of students at the school. Fate obviously had it in for him. A sudden thought struck him. The mistletoe would cease working if one of the participants was dead, right? Harry shook his head. No, that was going too far. Plus, it wasn't a particularly "light" thing to do. Maybe if he just knocked him unconscious or something… He had the horrible feeling that it wouldn't work and he'd just be left with an unconscious Malfoy on his hands.

With a heartfelt groan, in which he wouldn't be surprised if some of his soul escaped, he slid to the floor, bringing his knees to his chest. That leaved just one option… Wait until someone found them.

Back pressed against the invisible barrio keeping him trapped, he slid down to the ground and waited. Surprisingly, he didn't have to wait very long before the sound of footsteps echoed down the hallway. He'd never heard a more beautiful sound.

Scrambling to his feet, he turned around to see Professor McGonagall walking down the corridor, wrapped up in a tartan robe.

Next to him, he heard Malfoy mutter, "That is not her color."

He refrained from rolling his eyes, too happy to see the head of his house. She'd be able to get them free, and then he could go back to the common room, fall asleep in front of the fire, and then wake up the next morning and this would all have been a particularly disturbing dream.

Except… something was wrong. Her face wasn't stern and tinged with disappointment like it usually was when she caught students, or him at least, out of bed after curfew. In fact, it was like she couldn't even see them at all.

A heavy weight settled in his stomach at the realization. They were invisible. Fred and George had included invisibility, or at least an exceptionally strong disillusionment charm on them.

Simultaneously, he and Malfoy exchanged horrified glances, and Harry tried to quell his rising panic. It would be fine. She was headed straight at them. She'd have to notice when she walked into the invisible box keeping them prisoners.

She didn't. Almost when she was about to run into them, she suddenly stepped to the side and continued on her way.

What…

"Professor!" Harry yelled, banging his fists on the walls. "Professor, wait!" Malfoy was right along with him, pride and appearances forgotten as he pounded on the walls. Then, the tartan-clad professor slowed to a halt, turning around to peer at the apparently empty hallway, a slight frown marring her face.

A wave of relief washed through Harry. She could hear them.

"Professor, thank goodness. I know you can't see us, but it's me, Harry Potter. Draco Malfoy is with me, and we're stu-"

With a small shrug, Professor McGonagall turned back around and continued on down the corridor, disappearing around a corner, and leaving two horrified, confused, and probably not entirely sane, students staring after her.

"She…"

"She must have noticed something, but it wasn't enough," Malfoy finished, sounding rather dead inside.

"The twins… They must have included a repelling charm as well.

"And a silencio," Malfoy added.

Harry banged his head on the invisible walls. The twins… Merlin help them all in they decided to become dark lords. No one would stand a chance. But, before that happened, they were going to die slowly and painfully by his hands. "Hey, Malfoy? Do you have any dark arts books I could borrow?" T

he oddness of this request seemed to snap the blond out of his lethargy. "Why?"

"Because the hexes and curses aren't nearly painful enough for what I want to do to Fred and George."

The corners of Malfoy's mouth twitched into a smile before he could help it before vanishing. Then, he was staring at Harry in a way that the brunet found particularly disconcerting. "Potter… This thing that those Weasely's built is practically flawless. One of our own professors barely even noticed something was wrong. We could be in here for days or weeks before someone noticed something or the spells finally wore off."

Harry nodded slowly. That was all true, but it really didn't explain why Malfoy was looking at him like that. Or why he had the sudden urge to run. "Yeah, thanks for pointing that out, Malfoy. What about it?" He actually had an idea what the blond was talking about, but, for the sane of his sanity, he was going to pretend that he didn't.

"Don't be dense, Potter. You know what I'm suggesting!"

Harry watched as a tinge of pink spread across his rival's cheeks, and couldn't help feel his own face get warm. Malfoy was suggesting that they kiss… again. For ten seconds. With tongue. Out of all of the futures that Trelawny could have predicted, he was pretty sure that this one had never crossed her mind. And why was he thinking about that at this moment?

Malfoy apparently took his silence as a "hell, no" because he suddenly had a wand pointed in his face. "Listen here, Potter. I refuse to be stuck in here for days. Either you cooperate, or I'll use the imperious curse on you."

Harry blinked. That seemed a bit extreme. "I'm kind of immune to that curse. It doesn't work on me."

Malfoy just stared at him for a moment before lowering his wand, and saying in a hollow voice, "Of course it does. Just bloody of course."

Wow. The blonde was handling this even worse than he was, and that was saying something. Suddenly, he came to a decision, one he really didn't want to do and was probably, make that definitely, going to regret later.

He stood up, trying not to let how nervous he was show and probably failing horribly. "Fine. Let's get this over with."

Grey eyes widened in surprise. "What?"

"I said…" Harry cleared his throat and tried to avoid looking at the other boy. "Let's get this over with. I don't want to be stuck here for days, either. So, ten seconds, right? And then we never, ever, ever talk about this again."

The Malfoy heir nodded, a few strands of blond hair falling out of his perfectly gelled coif. "Right."

They fell into silence, which became progressively more awkward the longer it went on. Harry gulped. He really didn't want to do this, but Malfoy wasn't going to make the first move. He just needed to summon some of his Gryffindor courage, and –

Green eyes flew open in shock. Apparently, he didn't need to, because now warm lips were pressed against his own. He stood there, frozen in place, as a warm, wet tongue traced the seam of his lips. Okay, no. He couldn't do this. He'd rather be stuck there for weeks.

Malfoy must have sensed that he was about to pull away, because hands were suddenly cupping his cheeks, keeping him in place. A sharp nip to his lower lip made him yelp, and then suddenly there was another tongue in his mouth, hot and slick, exploring… he shuddered, his own tentatively joining the others. The Malfoy heir tilted his head to the side, fitting his mouth closer against Harry's, and his hands drifted down to settle on thin hips, backing the shell-shocked brunet against the wall.

Harry's eyes fluttered closed. He had no idea what was happening anymore, but it felt brilliant. His brain was muddled and fuzzy, and, unthinkingly, his arms went up to wrap around the other's neck, deepening the kiss, seeking more of the smooth heat. Warmth coiled pleasantly in his stomach, and a small moan slipped from his lips, the sound barely audible as it was swallowed by the other boy. But, apparently, he did hear it, because the next moment, a firm body was pressed against his own.

Then, they stumbled backwards, staggering, until Harry's back hit the cold, rough stone wall of the castle. For a moment, what this meant didn't permeate his lust-clouded mind, until a leg was forced between his own, and his breath hitched, pleasure overriding his senses. He threw his head back, only to wince as it connected with sharp, and rather unyielding, stone. The pain was enough to momentarily dampen the pleasure coursing through him as the blonde's lips trailed down his neck, leaving a burning hot trail in their wake.

There was cold, uncomfortable stone behind him, not a tepid smooth wall like before. Which meant… He tried to focus. Which meant… that they were out of the mistletoe prison. That was just as efficient as dousing him with cold water.

He stiffened, trying to curb the panic welling up inside, and grabbed Malfoy's shoulders, pushing him away.

"Wha… Harry?" The words tumbled from red, kiss-swollen lips, and Harry swallowed, taking in the face before him. The usually immaculate hair was down and mussed, courtesy of his hands, grey eyes were darkened and glazed with lust, skin was flushed pink, a thin sheen of sweat covering his pale skin. He probably looked the same.

He forced his mouth to move. "We're out." His voice came out raspy and shuddering.

Clearly not understanding a word, Malfoy nodded vaguely and ducked his head down to claim Harry's lips again, drawing another moan from the smaller male.

Harry's hands itched to slide back into the fine, silky blonde hair, but something stopped him. It was what was left of his commonsense, buried somewhere in the back of his mind under a pile of hormones. They weren't thinking straight. They'd only kissed to get out from under the mistletoe, and this had gone far past just kissing. Hands that were somehow cold and burning hot slid under his shirt, caressing the soft skin there.

Abruptly, he grabbed the hands and forced them back. If this didn't stop now, they were going to regret it, and there were going to be even more problems. "Malfoy, stop! We're out. We're out from under the mistletoe," he said, watching as awareness slowly came into the silver eyes that were so close to his own.

The blond blinked dazedly, and then stepped back, lust being quickly replaced with horror and clearly becoming more freaked out by the second. "I…" he cleared his throat, mouth opening and closing helplessly. "I… Harry… No, I mean… Potter, I…" Unable to find any words, he turned and ran down the corridor, blond hair disappearing around the corner, echoing footsteps gradually disappearing as Harry collapsed to the ground, still staring at the place where his ex-rival had been moments before.

Bloody hell… He'd just snogged Malfoy. And enjoyed it. A lot. He whimpered and then groaned, burying his face in his knees. He had the horrible feeling that they weren't going to be able to just ignore what happened.

Why did these things always happen to him? Why couldn't he just have a normal Christmas that didn't involve snogging his least favorite person in school and questioning his sexuality? Was that really too much to ask? Apparently.

He sighed, wondering if he was imagining the sound of his fracturing sanity.

Merry Christmas to him.

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Right... I can't believe I wrote this. A friend requested that I do a Harry and Draco fanfiction for Christmas, and she's kind of scary, so I did and... then she complained that it wasn't slashy enough, so I had to add in an extended kissing scene, which I've never done before. Yeah... She's happy, though, which means that I'm safe for now. Sort of. She's bugging me about it already. Anyway, this was originally planned to be a one-shot, but if people really like it, there might be a few more chapters. And... that's actually what she's bugging me about. And once she reads what I'm writing now, she's probably going to kill me. Except, if she kills me, then I can't write anymore, so there! Take that! Although, I suppose she could still torture me, so... I'm sorry! Please don't maim me! Moving on. Review if you all like it, and happy holidays. I hope your Christmas's are less insanity inducing than Harry's.

Ja ne,

_Rumer Hasit_


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